One ego weapon was rare.
Two was unheard of.
Three is unimaginable.
But one man managed to gain four.
*****
Deep within a dungeon, a young man named Veydran clashed against the thick hide of a dire wolf, stumbling back as a ragged breath tore from his lungs.
Despite his worn and battered state, the sword in his hand looked pristine. Its blade gleamed as sharp as ever, the green hilt wrapped in dragon scales untouched by battle, unlike the hands that wield it.
The dire wolf didn't hesitate to lunge once again.
"LEFT! LEFT! YOU ABSOLUTE IDIOT!" A girl's bratty voice shouted out in annoyance.
"I am going left!"
"That's your other left!"
The creature's jaws snapped shut where his head had been a second ago, teeth the size of daggers slamming together with a crack that echoed through the dungeon corridor.
Veydran hit the ground hard, rolling as he coughed up dust.
"I hate you," he muttered, scrambling backward.
"You're the one swinging me like a shovel," the sword snapped back.
"It's called improvising!"
The monster lunged again.
Veydran didn't think, he never had time to. His hand reached back, grabbing the demonic crimson shield strapped to him and wrenching it free just in time to intercept the beast's claws.
The impact rattled his bones.
"Too slow," the shield said calmly.
"Oh good," Veydran groaned. "You're awake."
"I am always awake," she replied. "You are simply rarely worth addressing."
"How motivating."
As the monster continued to strike the shield the force shoved him back several feet, boots scraping against the stone. His arms screamed in protest. He wasn't strong enough for this, nor fast enough to simply run away.
If I don't think of something fast, I'm going to die in this stupid hallway, he realized in a panic.
"Can we focus on me not dying?!" he snapped.
"Then stop hesitating," the sword barked. "Stab it!"
"With what opening?!"
"MAKE ONE!"
"Brilliant! Why didn't I think of that?!"
The monster roared, rearing back as an arrow buried itself cleanly in its eye.
"Did you forget you had a ranged weapon you could use?" A voice called out from behind Veydran.
Veydran turned.
A tall elf woman stood there, golden hair shining like sunlight, green eyes sharp like a blade of blades. In her hands rested a bow that looked as though it had been woven from living leaves.
"HUH!! HOW COME MIRIELLA GETS TO STEP OUT!!" The sword roared, jerking violently at his side.
Miriella glanced at the blade, a slow, smug smile forming.
"Unlike you," she said sweetly, "I'm not a bratty dragon compensating for something."
Silence.
The temperature spiked.
Even the wounded dire wolf froze, ears flattening as instinct screamed at it to stay very, very still.
Veydran, realizing what's about to happen, tossed the sword out from the hilt and onto the ground and rushed to brace himself behind his shield.
Flames erupted.
They swallowed the corridor in an instant, heat crashing over everything as a figure began to form within the inferno.
"Seriously, is this the time?!" Veydran shouted.
"Ah," the shield said calmly, "Zisna is angry again."
From the flames emerged a girl with wild green eyes and dark green hair tipped in blackened embers. Smoke curled from her lips as her tail slammed into the ground, cracking the stone beneath her.
Her gaze locked onto Miriella.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Zisna asked in pure rage.
Miriella burst out laughing.
I'm sorry–really, I am. It's just..." she wiped a tear from her eye, grinning, "I can't take you seriously when you're that short."
"...I'm going to kill you."
"Hey! WAIT!!" Veydran shouted from behind his shield. "Can we not do this right now?! I will be boiled alive!"
"You're all being immature," the shield remarked.
"Stay out of it, you filthy lowborn!" Zisna and Miriella snapped in unison.
"...Lowborn."
Veydran froze.
"... Aezila, don't—"
Despite Veydran's pleas, Aezila began to materialize before him.
Tall. Ash gray skin etched with glowing runes. Black hair streaked with red. Curved horns framing a calm, dangerous expression.
She took the shield from Veydran's hands.
"I see," she said coolly, stepping forward, "that physical correction is required."
Zisna glared at her in frustration, before pointing the sword at her as a threat.
"Aezila get in my way and I'll cut you down after I beat Miriella into a bloody pulp"
"But Zisna, with your stature your hands could never reach my face." Miriella pointed out.
"THAT'S IT!" Zisna roared, preparing to swing her sword.
"IS THERE A SINGLE SANE PERSON HERE?!" Veydran yelled, desperately trying to hide behind the now terrified dire wolf.
The wolf bolted
"HEY! COME BACK! TAKE ME WITH YOU!"
"Enough."
Everyone froze within an instant upon hearing the angelic voice throughout the dungeon.
Suddenly a woman started to materialize in the middle of the chaos floating down slowly with her hands clasped together.
White hair as a fleet of snow. Golden eyes. A halo glowing softly above her head and white feathered wings that stuck out from both sides of her head.
"Lysandra! My savior! Please stop them before they destroy the entire dungeon with me inside of it!"
"My fated companions," she began gently, "we must not—"
"Shut it old hag," Zisna cut in.
Silence.
As soon as Lysandra touched the ground she held out her hand as a giant battle axe appeared that was covered in gold and white trimmings.
"Looks like a reeducation is needed on how to respect others." She said calmly.
"Oh, fantastic," Veydran whispered.
Weapons raised.
Tension snapped.
Veydran looked around wildly for cover only to find none.
Oh great goddess, looks like I'll be seeing you early.
Everything was swallowed by light.
Then an explosion followed soon after.
*********
Within a building that was bustling with adventures known as the Adventurer's Guild of Grey Hollow, Veydran stood at the front desk covered in ash, dirt, and bits of dungeon debris.
He slammed down the quest paper and the dungeon drops.
"...Completed."
The receptionist blinked. "...Are you alright?"
"No."
"...Do you need a healer?"
"Also no."
"Okay… Well, give me a quick second to process the quest completion and I should have your reward ready."
As she hurried off, murmurs spread through the guild.
"That's him…"
"I hear he always talks to himself…"
"Rumors say that he's probably talking to ghosts."
"...Probably cursed."
Veydran sighed.
Inside Veydran's head—
"IF AEZILA DIDN'T INTERRUPT, I WOULD'VE WON!!" Zisna snapped.
"In your dreams, pipsqueak!' Miriella shot back.
"We should strive for harmony—"
"CAN IT!!" They both yelled at Lysandra.
"Truly," Aezila said coldly, "fate has a sense of humor."
The weapons at Veydran's side began to rattle.
His eye twitched.
"Will all of you…"
They shook harder.
"SHUT UP!!"
The entire guild went silent.
Veydran coughed.
"...Sorry."
Everyone immediately looked away.